


Light Em Up

by D_O



Series: Bolt [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Draco, Bottoming from the Top, But I love it like an ugly sweater, Cuz they do it for me, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, I cringe reading this, M/M, NSFW, Oops not anymore, Oral Sex, Original Art Included (sfw), Random emo moments, Really bad and obvious aliases, Songfic, Top Harry, Why do I do this to myself, dammit, don't flame, rated for later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9099397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_O/pseuds/D_O
Summary: Harry ran away from the Wizarding World to start a band. Guess who shows up for auditions?





	1. My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> OK. I hate and love this fic with equal passion. I am a huge fangirl of FoB to the point that I have, and will again in the future, listen to whichever song catches my fancy, on loop, in my ear buds, continously through an 8 hour work shift. Yeah. Welcome to my crazy. 
> 
> Also, I left off the prolog to this. I dragged it over from dA, but the prolog is still there. It's not strictly necessary. I have more chapters... You'll have to wait for them to be uploaded. I probably won't do it all at once, even though this is technically a complete story. It does have the potential for sequels though. Maybe.

 

March 29, 2005

 

Not for the first time that day did Harry seriously wonder why he held auditions to replace his co-vocalist, who decided rather recently to flit off and get his arse married, settled and plan for a sprog. He, personally, didn't understand the need to settle. He was quite fine with one-offs when the need arose, not that he couldn't control his hormones at his age. At 25, he was a strapping man at the height of his virility. He saw no sense in actively searching for 'the one'. If such a person showed up, he'd consider it. But for now, he was inexorably focused on this mini-crisis his band was having.

 

It wasn't as if it was the be all and end all of their career. For the last year they had been just an opening act for various well known artists, deciding to get their collective feet wet before launching into the music career as a whole. While he was the only wizard member of the band, surprisingly their manager, loosely termed, was also a wizard, and one of Harry's former year-mates at Hogwarts. Not that Blaise Zabini knew that.

 

According to his mates and manager, and the rest of the world, he was 'Hardy Potts'. Not his most clever pseudonym, but it did the job. His name wasn't the only thing he changed, with intent to hide in the muggle world. He made use of various glamours to augment his changed looks. His hair was longer and bone straight. Not a single wisp flying away. He kept his trademark black, but broke up the monochromatic scale with chunky strips of beryl. That was another thing to go... his emerald-esque eyes. He darkened them to a muddy olive that still looked handsome in his tanned face.

 

Since the war ended just under a decade previously, his scar has faded to near-nothing and could be passed off as natural pigment variation. He kept his slim Quidditch physique but slashed across his left forearm (as a reminder to himself what exactly he endured) was a string of runic letters that spelled 'expelliarmus' to anyone who closely studied the arcane language. So far, Blaise hadn't made any subtle or overt references to the tattoo, otherwise his alias would be shot and Daily Prophet reporters would be at his warehouse door long before now.

 

Harry brought his attention away from ruminating the transformation of 'Harry' into 'Hardy'. The bloke that was stepping off the jamming stage had a half-way decent voice, but the sound wasn't exactly what he was looking for in a co-vocalist. Merging Harry's distinct cold tenor with a light bass that this...what was his name? Claude? Klaus? Clarence, that was it. Clarence Castleberry. Either way, their voices would juxtapose in an odd way that wouldn't appeal to many. He stood to give Clarence a handshake and to break the news, rather more blunt than he would have as 'Harry'.

 

"Great voice, mate. But that isn't exactly what we need. You and I would sound horrible while harmonizing. Best of luck though. Cheers." He said, stepping away to take a look at the list he was given by Blaise, the prospects lined up for today.

 

"When you head out, send in..." Harry perused the list once more before finishing: "Drew." He was the last on this compilation of no-way-josé singers.

 

He had very little faith that this 'Malloy, Drew' would break the mould. Clarence nodded, resigned, then quickly made his way out to the smaller and more warmly furnished break room. In walked in a slender man that at first glance, rocked Harry to the core. He did a double take and forced his heart to vacate the esophagus that it decided it wanted to inhabit.

 

"Drew...?" Harry asked slowly, shoving the mental picture of his old school rival out of his head and focused on the petite, yet tall, blonde in front of him. The light hair was what got him at first. It wasn't as white-blonde as Malfoy, nor was the questioning gaze that of his granite chips. Curious Mediterranean pools met the glamoured olives in question.

 

"Yes...Hardy, is it? Potts? That is me. Drew Malloy, or so my mother claims." Came the warm, soft voice. 'Nope, not him. Malfoy couldn't sound this pleasant even if he was addressing the Queen, while Imperiused and Polyjuiced.' Harry thought. He blinked in surprise as the ash-blonde accented his little quip with a cheeky and flirtatious wink. 'Well! Definitely not Draco Malfoy. But a strong enough resemblance at first glance to easily mistake him.'

 

"Ha, well, if you prefer that name, I see no reason to strip it from you. There's many more interesting things to strip, I'll wager." Harry returned, his own quip bringing a soft flush to the pale, delicate face that no amount of wishing away could diffuse the uncanny similarity to his boyhood rival, -despite the two mini rings through his right brow and a matching one adorning the left side of his bottom lip.

 

'Well well, looks like this one already has something in common with me. Let's hear that soft voice sing, then.' Harry thought, pulling off a rather Slytherin smirk at the direction his thoughts almost strayed. There wasn't time for that. Harry had long since accepted that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand women like he could his own gender. It was thanks to his own band mates that he sussed out what exactly that meant.

 

An epiphany hit him hard about six years back, when he was still teaching himself to play guitar and training his voice: Perhaps he should be lifting shirts instead of skirts? A long night out with his future band chums, and copious amounts of alcohol, brought it all glaring into his eyes with a brightness to rival his Patronus. That is, if the handsome and fit young man that he woke next to that morning after, was any indication. Again, he was snapped out of his reverie by a prospective member. Blinking, he turned his contacted and glamoured eyes to Drew.

 

"Come again? Sorry, I was elsewhere for a mo'." He said, raising his brows and blinking.

 

"I said should I give my music to your band? It's my own compilation. If you have time for them to read the music over, I'm more than willing to wait." Drew said, passing him a sheaf of papers, hand written music dancing over the lines. Harry shuffled through them with a slight frown appearing between his brows after a few moments. A cursory glance from him showed that this music was in the same genre as theirs, but what really mattered was Drew's vocal talent. Not music writing skills. Harry took care of that himself, mostly.

 

"Guys, you want to learn this real quick like? Doesn't have to be perfect." Harry called over to his drummer, bassist and keys player. The three jogged over and took the music, talking amongst themselves briefly, without sparing a glance at the yet another would-be member, before going to their respective instruments. Harry continued to read through the lyrics and music for a few minutes, making mental annotations to himself, before a voice brought his head up.

 

"Hey, we're going to need you, Hardy. This won't sound right without your guitar cues." Raymond yelled over from behind his kit. Harry flicked his eyes to Drew and an idea quickly formed in his brain. None of the others that came today brought their own music, electing instead to have the band play their own tunes while they paid lip service to Harry's lyrics.

 

"Drew, you mind if I hop up there and give it a go with you? I'm sure I could do these backups." Harry murmured, leafing through the sheets quickly. With an affirmative nod, they both climbed the stage. While Drew was adjusting a microphone, Harry fetched a music stand to lay out the pages so he could keep on track of the catchy but unfamiliar song. He flipped his guitar up and pulled the strap over his shoulder, picking a few strings to confirm that it was still in tune.

 

"Whenever you're ready, Ray. The drums lead into the intro. Carey, keep that bass on count. Fletcher, doesn't look like we'll need keys, but you do have those presets. Freestyle how you will, I'm sure Drew here won't mind." Harry ordered in a friendly but stern manner, looking at last to Drew and giving him a half smile that reached his eyes.

 

He took a stance side by side with the lithe blonde, his adrenaline spiking for very little reason that he could understand, other than this soft-spoken but confidence radiating musician clicked with him. Had he taken longer to explore that feeling, he'd have realized that it had been ten years previously since he'd felt that sort of magnetic pull, however buried in animosity. Just then Fletcher came in with a clap preset, followed shortly by Ray on his floor kit after a few counts. A distinct and familiar smirk appeared on the pale pink lips of the prospective before he opened his mouth to give a voice to the music in time with Ray's strikes, drawing Harry's attention away from the lurching recognition that tried to flow through him.

 

"Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh. Oh oh, woah oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

Even by that time, with Drew only doing an echoing scale, Harry knew that this was a definitive moment. The haunting quality almost distracted him from coming in on his cue, and completely removed the sense of dèja vú caused by the blondes smirk. Anyone can smirk, including him. Right? His fingers danced along with his pick over his strings, Drew's voice cutting through him with its clarity and once again pulling his attention away from thoughts of Slytherin Ice Princes.

 

"B-b-be careful making wishes in the dark, dark. Can't be sure when they've hit their... mark, mark. And besides, in the mean, mean time, I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart."

 

Drew sang, hands wrapped loosely around the standing Mic and hips gently ticking with the tap that his booted foot kept time with. The effect had Harry glancing over frequently, his own hands pulling the tune from his instrument with skill and ease. Ray kept his beat easily as well, exchanging a look with Carey that clearly spoke volumes of approval. It didn't hurt that Drew obviously held their band leader's admiration, considering he couldn't keep his ogling eyes to himself.

 

"I'm in the de-details with the...devil, so now the world could never get me on my...level. I just gotta get you out of the cage. I'm a young lover's rage, gonna need a spark to ignite."

 

Harry could almost taste the angst underlying the vocalist's lyrics, no matter how clean and clear the voice. This was something Harry could write, something fueled by internalized and roiling emotions, for better or worse.

 

"My songs know what you did in the dark, so light em up, up up. Light em up, up up. Light em up, up, up. I'm on fire!"

 

Harry shivered as a chill raced down down his spine, but none of his reaction was evident in his own voice joining finally with Drew's as he chanted "light em up, up, up" and "I'm on fire!" with him, twice. At the joining, Drew opened his until-then-closed eyes to dart a wide and surprised look to Harry, shocked that the butch male could reach his range right along with him as they both rolled off scales.

 

"Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh." They both belted out, eyes meeting and mouths bearing identical amused grins around the scales.

 

"In the dark, dark." Harry followed up, pressing a button on his Mic that altered the reception, echoing while Drew quieted before joining in with the next line.

 

"Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

"In the dark, dark."

 

Harry sang the scales, just to jam home the point that the lyricist didn't have to play every part, and to allow him equal footing with the production, even if the music didn't specify that Harry was to come in with those lyrics. They would be co-vocalists after all. Drew smiled around the next lyrics and kept his eyes on the brunette, understanding the message and inclined his head in tacit understanding. Behind the pair, the rest of the band was keeping down their chuckles as the clear sparks erupting between the two singers threatened to short out their equipment.

 

"Writers keep writing what they...write, write. Somewhere, another pretty vein just... died, died. I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see, that you're the antidote to everything except for me, me.

 

A constellation of tears on your...lashes. Burn everything you love, then burn the...ashes. In the end, everything collides. My childhood spat back out the monster that you see."

 

Harry lost himself in the music, head bobbing along with the beat and eyes glued to Drew, his fingers not missing even one of theirs. His gut ached for the lyrics, for the pain. Something prompted the young man to pour this out of himself and Harry made the decision to ask him straight away. He'd already decided that once the song concluded, he'd welcome Drew to the band. He was acutely confident that his mates would unanimously agree. And if they planned on wrestling this song into their repertoire, it was imperative that he, at least, understood it in its entirety. He raised his voice with Drew's, almost exactly in tandem but perfect in its imperfection.

 

"My songs know what you did in the dark. So light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. I'm on fire!

 

So light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. I'm on fire!

 

Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

"In the dark, dark."

 

"Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

"In the dark, dark."

 

Harry could see the emotion welling up in that slim face, another point against the lookalike Malfoy. The only emotion the Malfoy heir could deign to show was contempt, as his royal Pureblood arse was better than everyone else. He really needed to get that git out of his head! Drew was infinitely better than that dratted toe-headed prat, and he'd only known him for a few minutes.

 

He let him take the point, and came in on counter instead of harmonizing, recognizing that this was his purge. He vaguely wondered how long he had been sitting on this piece of musical beauty before he was swept up into the counterpoint as the song wound down to its end.

 

"My songs know what you did in the dark..."

 

"My songs know what you did in the dark..." Harry countered, backing off the Mic to fade his voice, drawing out the last word in a flawless imitation of Drew's slight vibrato. Raymond drolled his kit quickly, then half a beat later, he slammed his Toms and cymbals while Harry launched into the last few counts on the heels of Drew.

 

"So light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. I'm on fire!

 

So light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. Light em up, up, up. I'm on fire!

 

Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

"In the dark, dark."

 

"Oh oh whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

"In the dark, dark."

 

Harry backed fully away and let Drew close it out a Capella, silencing his guitar and voice. A miniscule gesture that he made just prior towards his mates, and they too, stopped. Drew's voice rang clear and echoed back at him from the empty practice space.

 

"Oh oh, whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh, oh oh."

 

He turned to look at Harry full on, noticing with a quick once over, that his trousers weren't the only tight accommodations in the house. Hearing the brunette really done it in to him. They sounded superb mingled, like their voices were crafted specifically to sing out together. Harry, too, felt that deep, resonating connection. It was like for once since he disappeared from the Wizarding world, he was where he was supposed to be. And it came about by only singing. Where had Drew been hiding himself this entire time? He was content with his prior vocalist, but Hayden had nothing on Drew's control and clarity.

 

The only pitfall he could see was that for some Merlin-forbidden reason, the soft-spoken but powerful singer reminded him strongly of someone he had a long standing hate-hate reputation with. No matter how much he looked like a cousin to Malfoy, they needed him. He'd just have to do his best to toss out memories of his rival. With a slow turn to his mates to flash them a dazzling smile, he proffered the vocalist a healthy view of his pert backside encased in fetching tight denims. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Drew startle for a moment with his eyes notably gazing below the back of his shirt hem and inwardly grinned. Perhaps his Hardy persona could have fun with this enigma, if just a glance at his rear could elicit that reaction. Harry took two strides to Drew after receiving answering grins back from his band, hand outstretched warmly.

 

"Welcome to Bolt."


	2. Alone Together

Drew stared down Blaise with a throwback to his patented cold glare, his mouth set in a firm line.

 

"Dra..." the Italian started before he was rudely interrupted by the blonde's angry hiss. 

 

"It's Drew. And I'll thank you to remember that. You told me there were no other wizards here. Who the hell was that out there?" 

 

Blaise took a moment to himself to collect his thoughts. He didn't think Harry would be so careless as to announce himself to a 'stranger'. Blaise sussed out who 'Hardy Potts' was a month into their managing contract when he caught the brunette reapplying his glamours in the loo. Thanks to his quiet approach and silent withdrawal, 'Hardy' never detected another person in the room. He himself didn't hide his name, having been neutral in the war that tore apart their lives at Hogwarts. 

 

Blaise genuinely liked this hidden Harry, and 'Hardy' got on well with his manager. He saw no reason to disabuse the notion that they had, for all intents and purposes, met just a year prior. He had a nose for talent and management, and Bolt would go far if he could convince the former Gryffindor to abandon his shy approach to the music business. They were brilliant, and needed to be splashed across every music rag out there. With a sigh, he looked his long-time friend in the eye and lied boldly to his face.

 

"I had no idea. I haven't detected any magic use. Who do you suspect of being a closet wizard?" Blaise asked, leaning forward to steeple his fingers while resting his elbows on his dark mahogany desk. His choice wording rewarded him with a sardonic narrowing of the eyes from 'Drew'. 

 

"Hardy. He turned away from me and I saw the outline of a wand in his back pocket. Bugger all, he was flirting with me and if it weren't for that damned stick, I'd have jumped at the opportunity. Who is he? There was never a Hardy Potts at Hogwarts."

 

Draco, as he could think of himself privately here, ensconced in Blaise's office, knew the roster for Hogwarts backwards and forwards. There was no Hardy anyone on the books for four years above and below their age, and Hardy couldn't be any younger or older than that. 

 

"I met him a year ago, Drew. He's as of yet unaware that I'm a wizard. I haven't exactly flaunted it, you know. What I do know about him stands thus: Hardy is an intelligent chap, completely committed to the music. He and Raymond pulled the band together informally a little under seven years ago. He has no family, and certainly hasn't mingled with any of our kind with knowledge of what we are. He's got a set of pipes that could harden the straightest bloke and the ladies adore him. Not that he pays them much mind." Blaise ruminated. He watched Draco, Drew, nod his affirmative. 

 

"So I've gathered. Anything else?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at his friend. He had known Blaise for a long, long time. And he could tell when his friend was lying.

 

"Yes. He doesn't play for keeps. So don't expect a romance there, mate. But perhaps a little fun would do you good. Get your mind away from your missing Hero for once, yes?" Blaise offered lightly, flicking his fingers as if shooing away a pesky fly. Oh yes, he knew of the well-hidden bruised heart his Prince carried inside him. The bloody prat whinged enough about him before he sequestered the blonde out of the Wizarding world. Even after. And he now had played an integral part in reuniting Draco and Harry, in the guises of Drew and Hardy. Not that they realized it yet. Once a Slytherin... 

 

"I've been out of the Wizarding world for seven years. I don't want to be drug back just because some bloke finds out I'm magical too. And with my former name, not even a solid in with the band would be enough to keep me around if Hardy is prejudiced against my Wizarding status. My Mark may have faded, but my name hasn't. If he had anything to do with the war, the name Malfoy would rip open old wounds, if they exist. If you could just tell me who he is..." Drew tried again, his tone wheedling. 

 

"I've no idea. But rest assured your name is safe. He won't be hearing it from me." Blaise promised with a nod, only mildly shocked at the turnaround Draco had made in those years. Again, thanks to him.

 

They both stood and Drew held out his hand, shaking Blaise's with conviction. If Blaise wasn't going to rumble on who Hardy was, he'd have to do the gumshoe work himself.

 

"I'll be glad to take the spot of vocalist. Thank you for your consideration and foresight to add my name to the auditions. And for the love of Merlin, keep my name out of things." He reiterated, then turned and fled the office, not giving the Italian the satisfaction that the earlier Hero comment hit a little too close to heart, as he could see the speculation in those brown eyes. As far as Blaise needed to know, he was over that speccy git.

 

Not two steps outside he collided with a warm, hard body and nearly tumbled over but for the quick hands of Hardy, who caught him.

 

"Hey there, steady on. There you go." Came a concerned voice. Drew looked up into muddy but sparkling olive eyes and for a moment he thought he saw bright emeralds shine through. He blinked and shook his head, ridding himself of the notion. 

 

"Sorry about that... I'm not usually so clumsy." He murmured, unaware that he was still held up by strong, calloused hands. 

 

"Well, I am. So I guess I'm a good polar opposite for your grace." Came the quick reply, coupled with a teasing half grin. Harry tightened his hands on Drew's sleeved arms slightly before letting go, a touch reluctantly. The silence was thick before Hardy opened his mouth just as Drew was going to speak. They shared a flushed smile and Drew motioned for Hardy to continue.

 

"There isn't any practice tonight...but I'd like to get a little bit of more time with you. I have a flat upstairs. Nothing grand, mind you. But would you come up and have a pint? I'd like to know what made you write that song." Harry rambled, one hand raking through his hair, but leaving it straight and tamed for all the abuse. 

 

"Oh..uh..." Drew stuttered, thrown with the forward, and fumbling, invitation. He saw Hardy drop his hand to his side then quick as a flash he rose them, palm side out and shook his head. 

 

"Hey look, I didn't mean anything cozy. I just want to talk." Harry backpedaled, realizing how close his question came to a proposition. He was rewarded with another pink tinged half-smile.

 

"Well, even if it was cozy, you'd like as not hear very little complaint. A pint sounds good." Drew acquiesced, inclining his head slightly. If the bloke wanted to flirt, he'd show him how it's done. A faint 'okay' from the brunette drifted to Drew's ears before he turned and led the other man down the dim corridor and to a twisting flight of stairs. 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

A jingle of keys, the creak of the hinges and a small, nervous chuckle was all that was heard as they stepped through the portal and into a well furnished flat, art scattered across the walls and hardwood floors gleaming. 

 

"Nothing grand? This is quite acceptable, Hardy." Drew intoned after a moment, stepping with light, booted feet over to the plump leather couch, then took a seat. He turned his gaze back to the brunette and favored him with a disarming smile. 

 

"Oh, right. A pint. I have harder spirits, if you'd like." Harry said, dragging his eyes away from the blonde on his couch and left the question not a question. He was perversely glad when Drew replied with an affirmative to whiskey. He wouldn't mind getting cozy with the petite blonde, but not if it jeopardized the chances of him staying on in the band. His hormones could wait. And wait, indefinitely. But faced with a very fit body and enthralling wit, Harry wasn't sure that even his iron control could withstand too much time alone with the alluring guy. He hoped that if things turned physical, the contract he signed not an hour ago would still sound appealing on the morrow.

 

"Here, two fingers of my best stock, hard up. Now...about that song. It sounded very personal..." Harry led on, a motion of his own hand tinkling the cubes of ice in his glass. 

 

Drew sighed deeply and took a bracing sip, relishing in the slow burn. Harry mimicked him. The unintentional innuendo brought waves of heat to flash across his system, but with great effort he willed it away.

 

"Well...yes. It's quite personal..." He paused, wondering how to explain. Harry shook his head softly. 

 

"You don't really have to get into it. I could just...feel it. It was pretty far into the deep end, and not at all what I would have expected from you at first..." A hand was laid lightly on his tattoo free arm, the touch burning and silencing both. Harry didn't so much as glance down at the hand on his arm and Drew took that as acceptance to the barely intimate touch.

 

"No, it's alright. I...don't really know how to explain it. It's...about a person." He started, glancing off to the side. He felt Hardy nudge him gently with his knee. 

 

"A current? An ex? A never-was?"

 

"The later. And you can add in a 'wish-he-was' as well." Was the flat reply. 

 

"I had one of those too. Only, not as much for the romance, as just...I wish he and I could have been friends, at least. See, he hated me. And for years, I hated him back. Back then, I didn't know I was bent. All I wanted was to be treated like I wasn't dirt, but that's all I was to him. Nothing I could ever do would have been good enough. Unless somehow I could change my parentage, and even then, maybe not. Before I...moved, I had hoped he was coming around to the nicer side, but I left before anything came of it." Harry explained, frowning slightly. If he had known he was bent back at Hogwarts, would he have been attracted to Malfoy? Sure, the bloke was handsome. But he was a bigoted prat with too much venom coursing through his pureblood veins. Yes. He could have easily been attracted to Malfoy physically. Now if he only acted like Drew at least, it would be a tempting fantasy. 

 

"Well, this bloke and I came to verbal blows quite a bit. Even a few times it turned physical. But I wasn't allowed to openly care about him." Drew offered, slowly being at accustomed and set at ease with how open Hardy was. 

 

"Haha, yeah. Mine and I did that too. It's almost like in primary school. The little boy pulls the little girl's hair, just to get her attention. Only mine wasn't a girl. There has been girls, but nobody had my attention like he did. I always had to know what he was doing. Maybe I wanted him for more, and just didn't realize. Why weren't you allowed to care about him? Were your parents homophobic?"

 

"Yes and no. It just...wasn't done. Not in our social circles. Eventually I left though. I couldn't take it. Everywhere I looked, it was him. It's always him." He said with a quiet, sad laugh, right hand behind his head and scratching lightly, left remaining warm and light on Harry's bare arm. Harry closed his eyes and sighed. 

 

"You should let him go, Drew. I had to. He still crops up every once in a while, but...it's not so bad these days. Except for today." Harry grumbled the last, draining his whiskey until only the ice remained.

 

"What do you mean, except for today?" Drew asked, angling his body towards Harry and simultaneously putting his half finished tumbler of whiskey on the table. 

 

"This bloke I knew... we went to school together. He was tall, and blonde. Very much more blonde than you. Slim, like you. But...the face and eyes are different. And you aren't as stiff, as formal. When you walked in today, I could have sworn..." Harry replied, not noticing Drew going still. His eyes were misty with recollection and dimly he heard a question.

 

"What was his name?"

 

Harry finally glanced up at Drew and mistakenly interpreted the frown between the blonde's brows as genuine curiosity.

 

"His name...doesn't matter anymore. Plus, yours is better. Not some pompous aristocratic bollocks..." He trailed off when the hand that was resting on his arm raised and laid itself flush against his slightly stubbled cheek. 

 

"Methinks you're lying to yourself, Hardy. And to me. I think he mattered a lot to you. Not just for friendship. Not by the way you go dreamy-eyed mentioning him." Drew murmured, lost for a moment in their near identical histories. Had he not tried so hard to forget his years at Hogwarts and the attempt at a new life after the war, red flags would have sprung up and waved frantically. This mysterious closet wizard could have been in his year, and he could have known him. But the now mattered more than a dusty history that was better left buried in the past. Harry turned into the hand and smiled against it. 

 

"But he's not here. He'll never be here."

 

"I am. And that bloke is a berk for scorning you." Drew returned and gently pulled Harry's face over to his, finally giving into the mysterious draw the other man exuded. He, too, it seemed, finally gave in despite his earlier protests against getting 'cozy'. 

 

Their lips touched softly before Harry pulled away, his lips burning in a pleasing way where Drew's piercings had met his skin.

 

"I...I don't want to...push. I don't do well with commitments, so if you're looking for a happily ever after...we should stop before this gets started. I won't jeopardize you staying with band for a one-off shag. Not when I can't even let one bloke go from my past. It wouldn't be fair to you." Harry said, seriousness creeping into his voice and eyes turning hard, but darker with thinly disguised lust. His hormones were usually always under a firm reign, unless he was sloshed. The tiny tumbler he held wasn't anywhere close to enough to inebriate him.

 

"Even if this happens, and it's just the once, I'm not going anywhere. Singing today... it was magical. I'll stay as long as the band wants." Draco appeased, tactfully giving agreement to a conditional off.

 

Harry crashed his lips back down onto Drew's, his own tumbler was dropped and forgotten underneath the table where ice scattered. Bugger his damned hormones! They hadn't pushed this hard in years. Somewhere inside, a quiet voice insisted that it wasn't Drew he was mentally snogging. Harry viciously silenced the voice and once again shoving away a blurred vision of the Malfoy he knew from years passed. Drew helped him with the banishment of the Slytherin by virtue of his talented mouth, which he used to nibble on a plump lip before it parted from its mate with a soft groan. He took his chance and plundered the warm cavern, battling the resident tongue before becoming overpowered. 

 

Fingers entwined into his short, shaggy hair and he let Hardy guide him down, fluttering warm, open mouth kisses across his sandpaper jaw and down the corded neck. He tugged at the hem of the screen tee that hid the body of his fellow vocalist. Hardy obediently lifted his arms away from Drew and the shirt was flung, shortly after, across the room.

 

With a new expanse of tanned skin at his disposal, Drew mouthed every inch, licking and nipping his way across, while gently laying Hardy down against the couch arm, until he came to Hardy's navel. Giving into a wicked smirk, he dipped his wet tongue into the depression, looking up at him, and was rewarded with a breathy moan, words garbled. He put his hands to use and flicked open Hardy's fly. 

 

He pulled away the flaps of Hardy's tight jeans, noting with extreme approval that he wore nothing beneath. The junction was straining at the seams and Drew's mouth watered at what he'd find further. Drew was rapidly using his abacus-like mind and putting the pieces together. The magnetic pull, the random flickers of none other than glamours, the wand outlined in the pocket, and Blaise as manager, lying to his face. It was amazing at what the mind could connect even in compromising situations such as these. 

 

"You know my name...but if you need to...tonight, I can be him." Drew whispered, his breath ghosting over the wet patches around his navel that he left before journeying down south to nip lightly at the exposed hip bones.

 

Harry didn't know how to respond to that magnanimous offer. It felt wrong to agree. He shouldn't want Drew to be Draco Malfoy. He didn't want to explore that could-have scenario. He shook his head finally, giving Drew a negative.

 

"Lift up." Drew murmured, and when Harry did, he felt slim fingers slide inside his beltline, then drag downwards. Drew heard Hardy gasp once he was freed, cooler air doing nothing to dampen his arousal. Drew replied to the gasp with a desire filled groan, taking in the sight of a thick, red tipped cock, already dripping with need. Drew chanced another look up and was struck with the force of the debauched sight. Once again he thought he saw a flicker of bright green and mentally made a decision. If this was who he was beginning to think it was, he'd have to time this right. And later, he'll Avada Blaise, the damned liar. With nary a blink, he took Hardy's head into his warm mouth, swirling his tongue and lapping up the large droplet of pre that had collected in his slit. 

 

Harry drew out a long, low hiss and dropped his head back to dangle off the arm of the couch. He threaded his fingers through the silky locks and had a fight with his hips to not buck into Drew's mouth. He felt nimble hands grip his cheeks and squeeze, another hiss emitting from his panting mouth. Drew dropped lower onto Harry's shaft, sucking and pulling with his lips and Harry couldn't constrain his voice to inarticulate noises. 

 

"SHIT! Oh Merlin, do that again." He rambled, half out of his mind with the pressure, the slickness, and the warmth. Drew heard his oath, a confirmation that he was indeed magical, and moved his hands down lower until one fingertip brushed against the wooden length hidden in the pocket. He pulled Hardy down deep into his throat, enjoying the strangled cry as he swallowed, and thought 'Finite' as he touched the wand once more. A testament to his stealth, Hardy, now released from his glamours, didn't notice the magic abating. Drew looked back up and felt his heart lurch as his suspicions were confirmed. 

 

Bright green orbs met his and he narrowed his own heavily and specially glamoured eyes sensually, then swallowed once more. The newly revealed Harry closed his eyes and came with a shout, not realizing that in his white hot haze, he was mumbling oaths to Merlin again, coupled with a garbled name that sounded very much like Drew's own hidden moniker, despite Harry's negative answer to Drew's earlier offer. The blonde drank down every drop greedily, knowing that this was quite possibly the first and only time he'll ever get to taste the Hero. Once he realized his spells were removed, he'd be tossed on his arse after he'd be forced to reveal his own identity.

 

"Bleeding Christ, that was brilliant..." Harry murmured, coming down from his euphoria. Drew lifted his head and smiled warmly, then leaned back. Harry bit his lip, thoughtfully regarding the blonde with lust clouded eyes. 

 

"Turnabout is fair play." He said, eyeing the obvious bulge in the designer slacks. His partner shook his head slightly, fingering the juncture. 

 

"I'd rather you have a breather, then bury yourself as deep as you can go." Drew replied frankly. He watched with amusement as the spent member stirred once more with interest. 

 

"That is, if you can fit that monster inside me..." Drew lightly teased, rising from the couch gracefully. Harry instantly hardened and mutely followed the blonde into the adjoining bedroom.


	3. The Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone guess the meaning of the titles? And if this gets enough attention, I'll start on the continuation. Tons more could be added to this...
> 
> Also. I edited this to omit things pertaining to the prolog, which I was never very happy with. And, edits for cheese. Fixed some wording, etc. Enjoy!

The two men stumbled into the room, Harry pulled at Drew's clothes while he simultaneously shimmied out of his denims. In the dark, the pale skin glimmered in the faint moonlight; the long sleeved grey shirt was discarded with quick, jerky movements. Harry's lips immediately attached themselves to a puckered nipple and rolled it in his mouth. Drew whimpered softly, hands delicately holding the brunette's head to his chest. Harry fumbled with the button to the flat black slacks and after a long moment, had them undone and pooled at Drew's feet. He cupped the slightly more than average length in his palm and rubbed it through the fabric of the dark green boxers. Drew arched into the touch and gasped out. 

 

"Bed. Please. Now." 

 

   Harry pulled away and tugged Drew into a stumbled walk over to the modest double bed, fitted with a deep brown and green duvet. Drew kicked off his boots and slacks just after he was pushed down onto the bed, lips claimed ferociously by Harry's warm pair and a hard, toned body pressed into his. 

 

"This isn't what I expected, and I hope you won't hate me tomorrow. But I can't stop now." Harry murmured against Drew's lips, fingers sliding his boxers down and he let his partner's feet kick them off, followed by stocking feet. 

 

"I wouldn't dream of making you stop." Drew gasped, a burning hand finding his bare shaft and stroking slowly. 

 

"If you never touch me again, I'll make due. But you're touching me now, and that's what matters."

 

He stared up at Harry earnestly for a quiet moment, then ruffled the black fringe. 

 

"Let me ride you." Drew whispered, eyes gleaming in the low light. He heard a choked sound and inwardly smirked. Harry obviously hadn't had very many bottoms take control then.

 

"As you like." He replied quietly and rolled them, landing on his back with Drew settled atop, legs fitting themselves around the tapered waist. With a lascivious grin, Drew popped two fingers into his mouth and suckled lightly, then reached behind him. Harry watched with rapt attention as the blonde inserted one slick finger deep, rolling his hips slightly and whimpering. The movement caused delicious friction to Harry's groin and he growled softly. Drew threw him a lazy smile when Harry's hand found his prick again, then shoved a second finger in to join the first. 

 

"If you keep that up, this party will be over before it gets started." Harry ground out, panting between his teeth as the friction to his own rock hard length increased. 

 

"Then take what you want...Hardy." Drew murmured, just remembering in time to use the right name. Harry lost no seconds in taking up that offer. He reached around Drew's slender waist and grabbed his own cock, smiling tightly up at his partner for lifting enough to allow placement. Lined up and straining, Harry met Drew's eyes and sent a silent apology to whatever higher powers that were listening. Try as he might, the resemblance to Draco was too much in his lust fogged brain and it was him whom he thought of as he pushed in. 

 

"Ah...fuck..." Drew breathed, sliding himself back onto Harry. The going was drier than he normally would have accepted but he had no wish to stop; the prep wasn't nearly enough and it burned like an Incendio. He gritted his teeth and impaled himself further, eliciting a lustful groan from Harry, one matching in intensity tumbling out of his own mouth. 

 

"Fuck...is exactly...what we're going...to do, Drew." Harry panted, shaking with the repressed urge to buck up roughly into the tight heat. Drew placed a steadying hand against the washboard abs and waited until he adjusted, then rocked gently, each new direction pulling him up and down along the Savior's length. A sharp inhale met his ears then an answering rolling of hips greeted his movements. Drew tossed his head back, arching and rolling until he found that spot buried within. 

 

"Oh gods, oh fuck..." He cried, clenching around Harry's prick as an electrified wave of pleasure spread through him. Harry captured the blonde's hands and moved them both to the petite waist, where he clung on and bucked. A pleasure-filled cry rent the air. The light in the room rose slowly as the moon moved out from behind the clouds. Basked in the glow, Harry knew he was looking at a fallen angel. Surely no creature on this planet could rival the sheer beauty he was witnessing. Short, shaggy hair falling in rapidly dampening clumps, chest and abdomen glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, mouth open and neck and back arched backwards in pleasure as the hips rolled with abandon. 

 

   Harry was wedged so deep in he could see a slight bulge press out from the fragile looking stomach when Drew rocked backwards. He found the effect strongly arousing and his need heightened with a coiling pressure in his gut. The light intensified and despite the bucking and rolling, Harry spied long, thin, jagged marks barely discernable across the blondes chest. A trembling hand left the waist and traced the lines; in his mind he was transported back in time and space, to a bathroom flooded with water that rapidly tinged pink, then crimson, and a wailing voice from a ghost girl screaming bloody murder. His heart leaped then attempted to slam the brakes. It couldn't...it couldn't be!

 

"Draco?" Harry breathed softly in question. The movements atop him jerked momentarily and the blonde tilted his face down to lock his eyes with Harry's. Harry saw fear, desire, and an unknown quality in those blue eyes, the exact almond shape of Draco's, only tinted azure. 

 

"Harry, please...please don't stop." Draco sobbed softly, his ardor and need coloring his voice. Different emotions flashed across Harry's face at that, then settled on one. A yelp greeted a sharp, quick movement. Harry rolled them again. He laid atop Draco, still buried to the hilt, and pinned him to the bed. 

 

"Draco!?" He demanded incredulously. By the sheer force of his will, Draco broke his own glamours. Silver, wet eyes met green, the sharper, more angular contours throwing his face into enticing shadows. The hair splayed across the pillow lightened into spun gossamer, gently radiating the moonlight through the window. 

 

"Oh Merlin..." Harry breathed, his heart hammering wildly. 

 

"Please...move. Don't stop now." Draco pleaded, tilting his hips, desperate for even a little movement. It was a long, quiet moment later, when Draco had just about convinced himself that Harry was going to take his band's name seriously and bolt, when the Wizarding hero swooped down onto his lips. A frenzied, shocking kiss preluded a rough, deep thrust. Draco groaned into Harry's mouth, meeting that thrust which battered his prostate mercilessly. Harry broke the kiss and stared down at his once-rival. He didn't know what to think. But his body knew what to do. 

 

"It...was always me, huh?" He said, throwing Draco's earlier words back at him with a viscous few poundings, deep into the Slytherin's warm channel. Draco could only clutch his shoulders with his hands, and wrap his legs around Harry's waist as an answer. 

 

"All those years... you didn't want to fight with me. You wanted to fuck me." Harry accused, not letting up on the force of his bucks. Draco whimpered and arched, his length rubbing between their stomachs and it spread a sticky trail. He had little breath to spare for talking. He'd take whatever Harry would give, and gladly, as long as he didn't stop. He was right there...

 

"I can't ever get away from you, can I?" Harry gritted, then bottomed out as Draco came between them, his voice calling out Harry's proper name in the tone that instantly brought back snippets of memories of their performance downstairs. Something clicked just as the tightening around his cock intensified. With shudders wracking his body, he emptied himself deep inside Draco, the blondes name whispered like a prayer from his trembling lips. He collapsed onto the quaking body below him, the room only reverberated with panting and groans as their post coitus buzz slowly faded. 

 

"That song... it was about me. About us." Harry declared quietly into Draco's ear, weakly trying to shift his body to the side and off the slight form of the Slytherin. 

 

"It's always been you, Harry." Draco replied in a slightly hoarse voice. Harry finally succeeded in moving over. For a split second, Draco feared that he would get up and leave. Instead, the knackered man wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a snuggle. 

 

"We can't seem to ever be very far from each other. Either physically or mentally." Harry murmured, his tone even. 

"I thought about you for ages after I left. The publicity was coming dangerously close to worship. I was never comfortable with the attention. My friends...We...don't talk much anymore. I have a life here. A life I like. Then here you come, stripping it away." Harry's voice was soft, his words coming slowly like he had to taste them before they were uttered.

 

"I'm not going to rat you out. I ran too. But only because I couldn't get away from your name and photo in the papers. You disappeared...and it was all anyone could talk about, all I could think about." Draco replied, his still hoarse voice breaking. 

"And I couldn't even get enough bollocks to tell you thank you for speaking up for me and my mother at the trials. What you sang with me today was my frustration at having you disappear. I never knew Blaise found you while helping me get OVER you." Draco explained, grumbling the last bit while trailing a light hand up and down Harry's arm. 

 

"Does Blaise..." Harry started, whipping his head back and around to stare hard at the blondes profile and Draco answered him before he could finish. 

 

"I think so, yes. I saw your wand in your pocket earlier, then I came to him demanding to know why he'd place me at an audition with a wizard, knowing full well that I didn't want to go back to our world. He lied to my face and told me he didn't know you were one." 

 

Harry frowned and thought on that for a moment, tightening his hold on Draco. Said man endured it with a contented sigh and a returned cuddle.

 

"Then how did you know it was me?"

 

"Your glamours kept flickering whenever you got close to me. Then earlier, I shoved your prick down my throat to distract you enough while I touched your wand. A simple nonverbal finite took down your spells." Draco replied, patented Malfoy smirk twisting his lips. He heard Harry grumble something low about 'devious snakes', and answered with a chuckle. 

 

"Honestly, I was hoping that green I kept seeing was you." He confessed a moment letter and felt Harry still next to him.

 

"You wouldn't have had to trick me. After hearing you sing, and feeling that connection with you, I might have ranted and raved that you turned up at my warehouse, but I'd have accepted you regardless. The band means more to me than any long dead rivalry." Harry admonished, turning to press a kiss to Draco's temple. 

 

"Well...After shagging, then being outed like this, I can understand if you'd rather that I left. But I would have done this again if it meant that for only a short time, I had what I wanted." 

 

"You won't be going anywhere, Malfoy." Harry said, resting the side of his head against Draco's shoulder. The quiet grew long and comfortable until Harry broke it with a sigh. 

 

"You were brilliant today. And this, now, is still blowing my mind. I...I think I've always, in some way, had to be around you. Cheesing you off, or annoying you. I followed you around all sixth year like an obsessed stalker. I didn't have any romantic feelings for you back then, because I hadn't sussed out my own sexuality. But there was always an undercurrent of tension between us." Harry supplied, then fell silent once more. 

 

   Perhaps that's what most of their fights had been about? Not just opposite sides of the war, rival houses, or scorned hands in friendship. Harry distinctly recalled the ramifications he personally came up with the day he decided to leave. And Draco was part of the cons. He didn't like the fact that he felt like he was abandoning the unstable truce they had back then, after the war. If Harry left, would Draco had even continued to become a better person?

 

"I knew you weren't inherently evil. You just made mistakes. But I always wanted you to become more than you were. I knew you were capable. Nobody ever made me work hard at being a better person. You challenged me, you didn't let me rest on my laurels, you didn't see The Chosen One. You just saw another kid." He said, turning to look at Draco. 

 

"You saved my life, Harry. I was trying to prove to you and the rest of our world that I wasn't useless. All I could do was take the life you saved and prove that I wasn't beyond reparation. Show you that I wasn't broken, and therefore unworthy of your notice. I just saw no point in continuing in our world if you weren't there to see my change. Nobody else would have cared."

 

They shared a small, sad smile, then a gentle kiss. The kiss turned heated and before they knew it, Harry was once more atop Draco, and his legs were fitted around Harry's waist again. 

 

"I don't know how I'll handle only having the one night, but for what it's worth, I'm glad you gave me that at least." Draco murmured against Harry's neck in between light, fluttery kisses. If he believed Blaise about anything, it was that Harry didn't play for keeps. Why else would he still be unattached? For all Draco knew, they could have fallen back at Hogwarts, but for the war dragging attention away from mundane things as sorting out one's feelings.

 

"I highly doubt this will be a singular occurrence. You're...different now. And I like it. I like YOU. Assuming who you've been today is who you'll be tomorrow." Harry said, unable to keep a wistful and hopeful overtone out of his voice.

 

"I had no reason to be anything other than what I am when I walked in today. It was completely your choice in whether you liked what you saw."

 

"I definitely have no complaints." He said, giving Draco a nudge with his hips, digging his arousal into the cleft of Draco's cheeks.

 

"I could also get used to having this Draco around, though. Both on stage and in my bed." Draco flushed deep and lifted his head away from the gentle worship his lips were giving to Harry's flesh.

 

"As you like." He replied in a husky voice, angling his hips so that Harry slipped between his firm, pert mounds with a wet slide. Harry gave him a feral, dirty grin before letting his words slip out.

 

"C'mon. I think an encore is in order. Then we have a manager to Avada."

~*~Finite~*~

**Author's Note:**

> The artwork is mine, and can be found [here](http://drarry-obsessed.deviantart.com/art/The-Phoenix-Artwork-536092822)
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos, and by all means, watch me on dA!


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